


To Burn or Not to Burn

by dropmyneedle



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amputation, Chronic Pain, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Major Character Injury, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Snaps, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Prosthetic Arm, Tony Stark Lives, but also give feedback you know?, i found this in my notes and decided to finish it, idk why i wrote this, pls be nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-05-19 20:55:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dropmyneedle/pseuds/dropmyneedle
Summary: The white light is back, but it’s not comforting anymore. All he feels is fear. Fear and insurmountable pain. Flesh and bone alike burning once again. He was always meant to burn.This time, he’s afraid to go into the light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone i present to you: a thing. 
> 
> i started writing this as soon as i finished endgame opening night, but i just now finished it. 
> 
> unedited.

_ “With great power comes great responsibility.” _

_ “If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it.” _

 

Disintegrating bodies, flesh and bone falling away. Feeling each molecule of your very being be burned to nothing.

 

Battlefields filled with more power than a fifteen year old ever thought possible- surrounded by gods and superheroes and royalty- and it all comes down to a snap of the fingers. 

 

After the darkness, Peter sees white. A bright light that clears just enough to show three people up ahead. He moves forward and they turn. Familiar faces look back at him- faces he never thought he’d get to see again. Their eyes are filled with pride and even though they don’t say a word, he understands just what they mean. 

 

Pain comes next. He thinks he says words,but he’s not sure. The white light is back, but it’s not comforting anymore. All he feels is fear. Fear and insurmountable pain. Flesh and bone alike burning once again. He was always meant to burn. 

 

This time, he’s afraid to go into the light. 

 

-

 

“Peter? Guys, I think he’s coming around... Peter open your eyes.”

 

The voice sounds familiar, one he’s heard in recordings but never in real life. He follows instructions and opens his eyes and everything hits him at once- the pain, the bright lights, the sounds, the smells. The tube in his throat is uncomfortable, and he tries to dislodge it, but someone is telling him to stop. Lights are dimmed and he’s face to face with... The Hulk?

 

“Whoa there, take it easy, I can take the tube out but only if you calm down.”

 

Peter looks around, May is to the left and she looks worried, but she also looks... different. It’s subtle, just enough to make him uncomfortable. Something isn’t right. 

 

Hulk takes out the ventilator and Peter almost screams at the pain in his... everywhere. He’s asked question after question, but he can’t form words because of the pain. He looks down at the pain’s source, his left side, and is met with-

 

An empty space where his arm should be. 

 

Peter screams. 

 

-

 

The next time Peter wakes up, the pain is much less. The lights are dimmer now and May is still there, sleeping. Peter moves, and that is his first mistake, because it causes shooting pain to move all through his body. Then he winces, which is his second mistake, because his face, God, his face hurts. Then he gasps, which is the end-all to mistakes because it feels like his chest is being crushed at the sharp intake of air. 

 

He ends up groaning loudly, causing May to jump awake and rush to his side. 

 

“Pete, baby,” she cries. She breaks down and says something unintelligible, then, “I missed you so much.”

 

“How long,” Peter rasps. “How long have I been...”

 

“About a week,” she says. “It felt longer.”

 

Peter frowns. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”

 

He falls asleep feeling her running her fingers through his hair. 

 

-

 

The next time Peter is awake, Tony comes in not much later. The man stops at the door, hesitant, and the look in his eye is sad and happy at the same time. He looks afraid, as if Peter might break at the mere sound of his mentor’s voice. 

 

“Hey,” Peter says. “I was hoping you’d come by.”

 

“Every time I come you’re asleep,” Tony replies, and his voice lacks the usual snarkiness that it usually has. “Kid... Why the hell did you do that?”

 

Peter frowns. “You would’ve done the same thing.”

 

Tony sits, and it looks more like his legs give out on him than anything else. “Haven’t I told you before not to do anything that I would do?”

 

The boy smiles, despite the pain it causes his bandaged face. “Yeah, but if you did it you would have died. You’re not like me.”

 

Tony wipes a hand down his face. Neither of them say anything for a while, and Peter knows why- they can argue about it all they want, but what’s done is done. Tony can’t deny that he probably wouldn’t have survived using the stones. They’re both alive. So what if Peter had to lose an arm?

 

“Well, heal up quick,” Tony says. “My daughter wants to meet you, but I’d rather it be when you’re feeling a bit better.”

 

“Daughter?”

 

“Morgan,” Tony explains with a fond smile. “She’s four, but acts much older. You’ll love her.”

 

Peter’s breath hitches. “How long has it been?”

 

Tony’s face falls, and he says nothing. 

 

“Mister Stark, what happened?”

 

The man takes a deep breath and explains. 

 

-

 

The first time Peter meets Morgan is when he’s being discharged from medical. Tony was right when he said she acts older than she is. 

 

“You’re the boy from the picture,” Morgan says. “The one in our kitchen that used to make Daddy sad.”

 

Peter looks up at Tony from where he sits in a wheelchair, body still too weak to walk long distances for the time being. They’re idling in some hallway near the Medbay of Stark Tower- the one Tony bought back after the snap, because he just missed the city too much. 

 

“Don’t you have something you wanted to give Pete,” Tony asks. 

 

Morgan nods and pulls a paper out from behind her back, handing it gingerly to Peter. He takes it, and sees the drawing the four year old made him. It’s him, Tony, Pepper, and Morgan standing outside the lake house, and Peter can’t help it when his eyes water at the thought of being included in the Stark family. 

 

“What are your dad and I doing,” Peter asks. 

 

“Giving each other bunny ears,” Morgan replies. “Like in the picture.”

 

-

 

When Peter is finally more independent- able to walk on his own, get to the bathroom on his own, bathe on his own- he realizes something. 

 

He hasn’t looked in the mirror since he’s been hurt. 

 

There are plenty of mirrors around him, plenty of reflective surfaces, but he seems to be unconsciously avoiding his reflection. He hasn’t seen the extent of the scarring on his face, he hasn’t seen his stump of an arm, he hasn’t seen how much weight he’s lost. 

 

Slowly, Peter gets up from his bed- not his bed, the bed in his room at Stark Tower, because he’s being forced to stay there until Tony decides he’s allowed to go home- and he walks into his bathroom. He stares at the floor until he’s standing a few feet away from the large mirror in front of the sink, far enough from it so that his entire torso should be visible should he choose to look up. 

 

He counts down in his head, because he really doesn’t know if he’s ready for this, but at the same time he’s so curious to see what everyone else sees that he looks up before he even reaches ‘one.’

 

The eyes that he’s met with can’t be his. They’re brown, but they’re sunken and red with fatigue. Peter looks outward from there and sees the skin on the side of his face isn’t too discolored, per se, and he’s sure he has several doctors and his healing factor to thank for that, but it’s pulled taut over scar tissue that causes bumps and wrinkles in his skin so severe that it hardly looks like his face anymore.

 

Part of his left ear is missing, it looks shriveled and the skin there is an angry looking red, although when he reaches up to touch it he isn’t met with pain. His neck is the same as his face, but as the burns go down his left side they get worse and as his eyes scan his shirtless torso, he can see a scar from where he’d needed a tube in his chest to drain blood from his lung. He never got scars before, but he supposed this had to be an exception, because the doctors had to cut over skin that was practically gone, anyway. 

 

His ribs are visible, but not too prominent. May and Tony have both been making sure he’s eating, though neither of them are very good at cooking. Pepper, on the other hand, made the best lasagna just the day before, and Peter was sure he’d put on at least five pounds from that alone. 

 

Bruce said the scarring can continue to heal because of his abilities (he wasn’t sure what exactly was the extent of Peter’s enhancements at the time, but he said they could at least hope.) and there were more surgeries he can get if he wants to. He can gain back the weight he’d lost from being so sick and injured. He can work out until he has all the muscle back, and then some. 

 

The only thing he cant fix is his arm. 

 

That‘s the last thing Peter looks at. When he trains his eyes on where his shoulder ends and no arm begins, he feels... empty. Does he regret anything he’s done? Not in the slightest. If it had been Tony or Hawkeye or Ant Man, they might not have survived. Sure, he could have always given the stones to Captain Marvel and said “here, you seem more powerful than me, you’d probably get through this without losing a limb,” but he didn’t, and he couldn’t change that now. 

 

Peter brings his right hand up and places it on his shoulder. He moves it down, feeling the space where his arm should be, and feels a twinge of pain from an unknown source. 

 

He’s interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door. 

 

“Petey?” 

 

Instead of waiting for a response, May just opens the door. She looks at him and he sees a twinge of sadness in her eyes before he hastily throws on a shirt, struggling to get it over his head. His aunt moves to help, but he takes a step away. 

 

“I got it, I got it,” he says. “Do you need something?”

 

“There are some people who want to talk to you, if you’re up for it,” she says, and a smile appears on her face that makes it impossible to say no, even if Peter is emotionally and physically spent from just walking around his bedroom and looking in the mirror. 

 

She leads him into the living room and he stops just at the entrance because that can’t be Ned and MJ sitting on Mister Stark’s couch. MJ doesn’t even know about Spider-Man. 

 

Except for the fact that it is them, and she does know, and they look back at him from where they’re whispering to each other and their expressions are... unreadable. Ned looks like he’s been crying, eyes puffy, and MJ looks worried and angry and happy all at the same time. 

 

They both stand and slowly approach him, as if he’s a wounded animal. 

 

“Hey, guys,” he says, and he looks into the adjacent kitchen and dining room to see Sam, Tony, May, and Rhodey watching their encounter. His hand begins to sweat, because everyone’s attention is on him. 

 

Ned is staring at him and his eyes look like they’re filling with tears again, and Peter sticks his hand out in front of him. 

 

“Ned, don’t cry, I’m literally fi-“

 

“If you finish that sentence,” MJ begins in a shaky voice. “I swear I’m going to punch you in the mouth.”

 

Peter can’t help but smile. He tries to pull both of his friends into a hug, but he ends up wrapping his right arm around MJ and awkwardly jabbing his shoulder into Ned, but they both seem to get it because they return the embrace. Ned is babbling incoherently about “I thought you were dead” and MJ is saying “he’s exaggerating, we were well informed you weren’t dead, just almost dead.”

 

This is the dynamic he needs to get back on his feet, to feel like he is whole again. 

 

-

 

A couple of weeks later, Peter starts awake, gasping for air. White hot pain floods the left side of his body once again, and he can’t help but think that he’s been tricked. He’s burning, he’s definitely burning. Were the last several weeks all a dream? Is he still sitting in the wreckage of the compound, arm burnt beyond salvageability? 

 

He isn’t aware that he’s been screaming until someone is grabbing his face and shouting at him. 

 

“Pete! Pete, it’s a nightmare, wake up.”

 

No, this isn’t a nightmare. Nightmares don’t hurt, not like this. This is different. 

 

“It hurts,” he chokes, sucking in a breath afterwards. He opens his eyes and around the black dots in his vision he can see Tony sitting next to him, and May standing behind him, looking horrified. 

 

“What hurts,” Tony asks. 

 

“My _arm_ ,” he cries, because he has an arm, he has to have an arm because if he didn’t it wouldn’t hurt so badly. 

 

He can see Tony look back at May, and back to him again, and he takes his right hand and grabs Tony’s shirt. Just that movement alone causes pain to shoot through his arm, and he screams because it’s just like last time, except last time he at least passed out, why isn’t he passing out?

 

“Alright,” Tony says, scooping Peter up with a grunt and jogging from the room. 

 

Peter buries his face in Tony’s shirt, heaving in breath after agonizing breath, because the pain is radiating through his shoulder and into his neck and chest and causing muscle spasms and _God_ , why won’t it stop?

 

“Did you guys mess up?” Tony sounds angry as he places Peter down on a bed in the Medbay. “You had to have messed up during his surgery, why is he in so much pain?”

 

“It’s called phantom limb pain, Tony, it happens to a lot of amputees,” Bruce replies. “I’ll get him something to help with the pain.”

 

Peter is left writhing in agony, hand crushing the bar on the side of the bed until medicine is pushed through an IV that he didn’t even feel go in. Finally he’s given relief, and his vision clears to see May and Tony looking at him, both a little pale. His eyes drift down to the offending arm to see that it’s gone, and the past few weeks haven’t been a dream. 

 

“Pete?” May says softly, combing her fingers through his hair. “Do you feel better?”

 

He nods. “Yeah.” He can feel his bottom lip wobble and can’t help when a tear falls down his temple and a sob escapes him. “It felt just like...”

 

Peter doesn’t finish and the two seem to understand because both of them look at him with watery, tired eyes. He drifts off to sleep, the medicine forcing his eyes shut. 

 

-

 

The pain comes and goes. He has episodes at random times, seemingly with no trigger. They watch a movie one night, and Peter cries out just as it reaches its midpoint. They’re in the middle of dinner one day, and Peter is slumping in his chair, plate abandoned. Peter and Sam are tossing a volleyball back and forth (Peter is trying to help his hand-eye coordination get better with his remaining hand) and he’s suddenly hit with pure agony and is sent falling to his knees. 

 

One day, Peter is sitting in the dining room, eating cereal for breakfast and none other than James Buchanan Barnes walks in. The man grabs an apple and sits down across from him, book in hand. 

 

“Mister Barnes,” Peter says before he can stop himself, and the man looks up. “Um, I was just wondering... Do you ever... Get pain in your... Your arm- I mean, your... not-an-arm?”

 

The soldier looks at him for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I used to.”

 

Peter sits up straight. “Used to? When did it stop?”

 

“When the whole...” He gestures to his head. “Brainwashing thing happened, I guess.”

 

Bucky goes back to eating his fruit and reading, and Peter doesn’t press the topic any further. 

 

-

 

“Hey, Pete,” Tony calls from down the hall. “Can you come over here for a minute?”

 

Peter emerges from his bedroom and Tony beckons him towards the elevator, telling FRIDAY to take them to the lab. 

 

“What do you need?”

 

“Just want to take some measurements of your arm.”

 

The doors to the lab open and Tony steps out and Peter hesitates before following him. 

 

“What do you mean ‘measurements?’”

 

“For your new arm, of course.” Tony says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Now hold still.”

 

Tony comes at him with a measuring tape and Peter stands, stunned. He’s never thought about the possibility of getting a new arm. While the thought brings joy, it also brings a kind of grief. Grief for his old arm. Grief for his life before he learned what it was like to burn. 

 

“What’s on your mind,” Tony asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

 

“Oh- uh... Nothing.”

 

The man only smiles. “Want to try that again?”

 

Peter sighs. “I guess I kind of... miss my old arm? I don’t know. It’s dumb. I just feel weird replacing it. It’s not like the pain is going to stop.”

 

Tony hums in thought. “Maybe it could.”

 

-

 

The day Peter gets his new arm is one filled with emotion. 

 

It’s been a few months since he lost his old arm, and when he lays his eyes on his new one, he feels his stomach do flips. He can’t decide if it’s anxiety or excitement. 

 

“The process of attaching it might feel weird,” Tony says. “When you had surgery I had Helen put sensors under your skin to connect with the ones on the arm. It shouldn’t hurt though, let me know if it does.”

 

Peter grimaces as Tony handles the stump he has left and slides something over it before gently attaching the prosthetic arm. He feels a shockwave run through him when it’s connected, but not one of pain, more of a tingling. 

 

“All set,” Tony says. “Can you move your fingers?”

 

At that, Peter becomes afraid. When he’s tried to move his nonexistent fingers in the past, he was only met with the pain of their absence. Nonetheless, he looks down at the fingers on the prosthetic and wills them to move. 

 

He may have been trying a bit too hard, because suddenly his fist clamps shut with such force that the metal clangs against itself loudly. Peter gasps sharply and looks up at Tony, then over to May, who is smiling so wide it looks like it hurts. 

 

“Can you lift it up,” Tony asks next. 

 

Peter once again jerkily moves his arm, then bends his elbow, then flexes his fingers over and over again, marveling in the sight of a fourth limb attached to his body. 

 

“There’s one more part to it,” Tony says. “There’s a button on the shoulder that only responds to your fingerprint, mine, and May’s. When it’s pressed, it sends tiny electric pulses into your arm to help you when you have pain.”

 

Peter looks to his shoulder and sees the outline of a circle. Curious, he presses it, and everything changes. 

 

His arm feels lighter, and the ache that he has been ignoring for days finally leaves his shoulder and neck. He hadn’t even realized he was in pain, he’d grown so used to the chronic discomfort that it was a new normal for him. 

 

Not anymore. 

 

Peter cries. He gasps out a few sobs and lunges toward Tony, gathering him in an embrace. The man seems shocked at first, but returns the hug, May joining in as well. For the first time in a long time, Peter is filled with peace.

 

He is without pain. 

 

Maybe he was never meant to burn, after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s tony’s POV on chapter one :) not beta read, i edited it a little but please make me aware of any mistakes i need to fix!

“I am inevitable.”

 

Suddenly Tony realizes that Thanos’ gauntlet is empty, and the Titan seems to realize it too. The alien’s face contorts into an expression of confusion, and then Tony could swear he sees fear there before everyone’s attention is drawn to the person who stole the stones, the person who is about to end the battle once and for all. 

 

It’s Peter. The boy has attached the stones to his own hand and Tony can see him shuddering as the power runs through his body. 

 

“Hi... Inevitable,” Peter gasps. “I’m Spider-man.”

 

He puts his fingers together and Tony can hear himself screaming, begging him not to do it, but it’s already done. Peter snaps his fingers and Tony sees a bright flash of white. The next thing he knows, Thanos and all of his army is disappearing before his very eyes. The winning is great and all, but all Tony is focused on is Peter, his kid, slumped over against a piece of rubble. 

 

“No,” Tony whispers. “No, no!”

 

He flies over to Peter and gets a better look at his mangled body. His left side is blackened, and his ear is mostly gone. Tony placed a hand on his right cheek, cradling his face. 

 

“Pete,” he says softly. “Pete, wake up.”

 

Slowly, the boy’s eyes open. His left eye is cloudy and unseeing, and his right eye is glazed over. He looks at Tony, and the man can hear his breath rattling in his chest as he opens his mouth. 

 

“T-T-T-“ Peter huffs. “To-ny... Did... w-we w-wi-in?”

 

Tony sobs, but puts a comforting smile on his face. “Yeah, buddy. Yeah, we won. You did great, now I just need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

 

Peter whimpers, and he looks like he’s not even seeing Tony through the pain at this point. He looks scared, he looks like he’s in agony. 

 

“Talk to me, FRIDAY,” Tony requests. 

 

The AI rattles off a series of injuries, burn reports, and statistics. “I suggest immediate medical attention,” FRIDAY stresses. “His lung is on the verge of collapse.”

 

Tony gasps. “Help,” he breathes. “Help- We need some help here!”

 

Wakandan warriors surround him and hoist Peter onto a sort of floating gurney. Princess Shuri runs after them, shouting behind her. 

 

“I’ll stabilize him and then he can move to one of your facilities!”

 

Tony follows them through one of Strange’s portals and into a high-tech hospital in Wakanda. He has trouble keeping up with the princess, and she holds her hand out when they reach a set of double doors, keeping Tony from going any further. 

 

“You must stay here,” she says. “I’ll keep you updated.”

 

She disappears with Peter and Tony is left standing in the white hallway, staring after her. He feels a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to a chair into which he practically collapses, slumping over with his head in his hands. Pepper sits down next to him, placing a hand on his back. 

 

“Tony,” she says. “You’ve got to breathe.”

 

He gasped out a few breaths, hearing her breathing exaggeratedly next to him to try and get him to copy. 

 

“I failed, Pep,” he whispered. “I- I-“ 

 

He cuts himself off, shaking his head at the ground. His wife grabs his shoulders, sitting him up straight and forcing him to look at her. 

 

“You can’t do this,” she says. “Not right now. He’s not dead, Tony. He needs you.”

 

Tony wipes his hands over his face, ridding it of any tears. 

 

“Can you call his aunt,” he asks. “I don’t think I can...”

 

“Happy’s already on it.”

 

Everyone is crammed into that tiny hallway- T’Challa, Carol, Steve, Thor, Valkyrie- everyone. Their faces are solemn and their own wounds are cast aside as they wait, and wait, and wait, until finally Shuri comes back out of the room. Everyone stands in anticipation, waiting until she speaks. 

 

“He’s alive,” she says, and the group lets out a collective breath. “He’s stable, but...” She looks to the floor. 

 

“What?” Tony’s voice breaks. “What is it?”

 

“I couldn’t save his arm,” she says, eyes trained on her shoes. “Had to amputate it at the shoulder.”

 

Tony’s breath hitches, and he slams a fist on the arm of his chair. He looks around at the tired, wounded Avengers surrounding him, and his eyes settle upon one specific person, who stands solemnly at Star-dweeb’s left. 

 

“You,” he says, pointing a shaking finger at Stephen Strange. Anyone standing around the wizard moves away as Tony stands. “You- You knew this was going to happen.”

 

“Tony-“ Pepper begins, grabbing his wrist, but he’s not having any of it. 

 

“No,” he says, wrenching his hand away and approaching Strange. 

 

The crowd disperses further and the look on the doctor’s face is unreadable. Pepper and Rhodey both stand as well, seemingly ready to stop a brawl should one break out. 

 

“You knew,” Tony says, nose barely an inch away from Strange’s. “You knew that this- this sixteen year old kid, this  _child_ , would-“

 

“I knew,” the wizard interrupts. 

 

Tony grinds his teeth. “And you didn’t do anything?”

 

“I told you,” Strange says. “There was only one way we were going to win this. You knew that.”

 

“But I didn’t know it was-“ Tony cuts himself off, takes a step back. “You get him back to New York,” he says. “Then you leave. If I see your face ever again I can’t promise I won’t bash it in.”

 

“ _Tony_ ,” Pepper scolds, but Strange only nods. 

 

“Very well,” the doctor says. 

 

Tony fixes him another glare before heading back over to Shuri. “How long until we can take him to New York?”

 

“Give him a couple of days,” Shuri says, still avoiding eye contact. “His body is healing itself. It’s very slow, but progress is progress. I couldn’t save his arm because... Because it absorbed too much of the radiation, and letting him keep it would’ve-“

 

“It’s okay, sister,” T’Challa says from somewhere behind Tony. 

 

“I’m sorry,” the girl says, bringing a hand up to her face, and her eyes still don’t meet Tony’s. It’s in that moment that he realizes that she’s Peter’s age, still only a child. 

 

Tony places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says. “You did good.” 

 

The next few days are hectic. The public demands a statement from the Avengers. The streets are flooded with homeless people. They call May Parker and bring her to Wakanda, where she breaks down at the sight of her nephew.

 

On the first day, the boy’s face is charred black, as are his neck and chest. A tube is in the left side of his chest, draining blood from his lung. There’s a ventilator in his mouth, and most of his head is bald. 

 

On the second day, the tube is removed from Peter’s chest. He remains on the ventilator, but is transferred back to New York that evening. He’s situated in a private facility in Manhattan, where Helen Cho is taking care of him.

 

On the third day, Tony asks Helen to put sensors under the skin on the stump of Peter’s shoulder. Helen treats his skin and tries to help produce new, healthy cells. It works, to an extent. Patches of pink skin pop up where there was once only blackness. 

 

On the fourth day, there isn’t enough food. The supply of resources can’t keep up with the sudden double in demand. There are riots in the streets. 

 

On the fifth day, Peter wakes up. 

 

Tony isn’t around for it. He’s been avoiding Peter’s room. He’s not quite sure why. Maybe it’s the intense, bone crushing guilt he feels whenever he thinks of Peter (All the time. He’s thinking of him all the time). Either way, he’s not there. Bruce is, though, and he says that Peter screamed and screamed until they put him back to sleep. When he hears that, Tony is glad he wasn’t there. 

 

On the sixth day, the boy sleeps. It’s no longer a coma, and he’s off the ventilator, Tony is told. Peter is actually getting a restful sleep because his body needs it. That is also the day that Rogers gives a speech in D.C. about what happened at the compound. Tony doesn’t watch it. He doesn’t need it to be described to him again. He doesn’t need to see the world’s reaction when they hear that a lowly vigilante was the one to save the universe, and not the Avengers they all knew. 

 

On the seventh day, Peter wakes up again. Once again, Tony isn’t there for it. He’s told that it was brief, that he spoke to his aunt and then passed out again soon after. 

 

Tony still can’t bring himself to go see him. He wants to stay as far away from the kid as possible, more for Peter’s sake than for his own. 

 

A couple more days pass, and Tony is refusing to come home, making a place for himself at Cho’s clinic. Rhodey and Pepper have tried to get him to go home, to sleep in an actual bed, something. But he doesn’t. They tell him that Morgan misses him. That she wonders where he is. Tony wonders if he should stay away from her, too. 

 

He’s like a virus. Everyone he loves gets hurt. Happy was nearly blown up all those years ago, Pepper was captured and nearly killed, Rhodey fell. 

 

Peter sacrificed himself because Tony wasn’t quick enough to keep him from doing so. 

 

So he continues to sulk. He sits in the waiting room at the clinic. Types away on his laptop. Doesn’t interact with anyone. 

 

That is, until a livid May Parker storms into the waiting room, hands balled into fists at her sides. Tony braces himself as she slams his laptop shut. 

 

“What the hell are you doing,” she demands. He splutters for a second, but she doesn’t give him time to form words. “Peter _needs_ you, Tony- and don’t feed me your self-depricating bullshit, because I don’t care. What I care about is the fact that my boy just saved the world _and_ _ you won’t even go see him .” _

 

Tony swallows and looks at the linoleum floor under his feet, running a hand down his face. 

 

“You remember what it was like,” he says. “Those five years. Him being gone. You remember.”

 

“Yes, I do,” May replies, voice softer now. She sits next to him. 

 

“I’m afraid he’s not going to make it,” Tony whispers. “That things will go back to how they were and this time... This time there’ll be no going back.”

 

May places a hand on top of his and he looks up at her. “He’s in the clear now,” she says. “He’s gonna be okay. He’s getting better and better each day.”

 

“I know, I know.”

 

“Nothing will happen to Peter.”

 

Tony sniffs. “Yeah. Nothing will happen.” He repeats it a few more times, then stands. “Let’s go.”

 

He and May head back towards Peter’s room and Tony hesitates outside of the door. He warily glances over at the woman who steps in front of him and opens the door for him, gesturing for him to go inside. 

 

Tony isn’t quite sure what he was expecting. He knows the details of his injuries, the lack of a left arm, the burns all over his body, but even so, when he goes into the room he feels a tug in his chest and a lump form in his throat. Peter’s eyes are closed, but his eyebrows (eyebrow, because one was burnt off along with the hair on the left side of his head) are pulled towards each other in an expression of discomfort. 

 

“Helen said he’s healing really fast,” May says softly. “She’s never seen anything like it.“

 

Tony hasn’t either. He knows that Peter’s healing factor is incredible, but he never expected him to be able to recover this well from the severity of his burns, or the blindness he’d had in his left eye just a few days ago. 

 

After a few moments of staring at the boy, Tony feels the lump in his throat start to expand. He apologizes to May and briskly leaves the room, hiding away in a nearby bathroom. 

 

Every other time he visits Peter that week, the boy is asleep. Tony isn’t sure if he wants Peter to wake up again just yet. The kid deserves to rest. 

 

_ (And Tony is also terrified of getting attached to him again because it was so hard to lose him the first time and he isn’t sure if he’ll survive a second.) _

 

It’s on a Tuesday afternoon that he’s walking into Peter’s room and the first thing he sees is Peter’s big brown eyes staring at him. He stops at the door and stares at the boy, wondering if he’s just finally lost it, but Peter stares back.

“Hey,” Peter says, voice weak. “I was hoping you’d come by.”

 

After a few seconds, Tony finally finds his voice. “Every time I come you’re asleep.” He can’t help himself when he speaks next, because the words erupt from his mouth without much thought. “Kid... Why the hell did you do that?”

Peter frowns at him, as if the answer must be obvious. “You would’ve done the same thing.”

Tony falls into a nearby chair, huffing a breath in a mix of exasperation and guilt. “Haven’t I told you before not to do anything that I would do?”

Peter smiles at him, a little shaky, and Tony feels a release in his chest at the sight of it. “Yeah, but if you did it you would have died. You’re not like me.”

Tony wipes a hand down his face in an attempt to hide the tears collecting in his eyes. Neither of them say anything for a while, because what’s the point? Tony knows that he wouldn’t have survived using the stones.

Tony clears his throat. “Well, heal up quick. My daughter wants to meet you, but I’d rather it be when you’re feeling a bit better.”

“Daughter?”

“Morgan,” Tony explains, and he can’t help but smile at the thought of his two kids meeting each other. “She’s four, but acts much older. You’ll love her.”

Peter’s face falls and Tony immediately knows he messed up. “How long has it been?” Tony attempts to speak but for a moment he’s dumbstruck. Peter speaks again, voice pleading. “Mister Stark, _what happened?”_

Tony takes a deep, shuddering breath and explains. 

 

-

 

“Maguna, dinner time,” Tony calls.

 

After his last conversation with Peter, Tony finally decided to spend more time in the penthouse- yes, the penthouse of Avengers Tower, which he bought back after the snap for mostly sentimental reasons. Peter is being transferred to the Medbay in a couple of days so it’ll be easier to keep an eye on him while also spending time with Pepper and Morgan. 

 

The three of them sit around the dinner table and Pepper starts passing out food. As Morgan starts eating her spaghetti, Pepper sends Tony a glance and he nods at her knowingly. 

 

“So, Morgan,” Tony begins. “There’s someone I want you to meet later this week.”

 

“Who is it?”

 

Tony hesitates. “It’s... Your big brother, Peter.”

 

Morgan stares at him for a moment, perplexed. Her little eyebrows draw together and Tony can practically see the wheels turning in her head, trying to understand. Seeing her confusion, Tony stands and strides across the penthouse to retrieve a picture frame from the kitchen, the one that inspired him to tackle time travel what feels like a century ago. He places it down on the table across from Morgan, pointing at Peter’s face. 

 

“This is him,” he says. “Before you were born, Peter went to fight bad guys and never came home.”

 

“He’s coming home now, though?”

 

“Yes,” Tony replies. “He’s hurt, though, so you’re going to need to cheer him up and help him feel better.”

 

“Oh,” Morgan says, continuing to twirl her fork around in her pasta. “Should I draw him a picture?”

 

Tony smiles as he puts the picture back in its place. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

 

It‘s just three days later that Peter arrives at the tower and is discharged from the Medbay. Tony brings Morgan and Pepper downstairs to meet Peter and help him and May get situated in the penthouse.

 

“Now, munchkin, Peter isn’t going to look the way he did in the picture,” Pepper says in the elevator.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because he got hurt,” Tony says. “He’s still healing.”

 

Morgan nods, but Tony is still worried she’ll be scared by the severity of Peter’s injuries. She’s never met someone missing a limb before, and Tony just isn’t sure how she’ll react. 

 

As the three of them walk down the hall, Tony spots May and Peter at the far end of the hallway. Peter is sitting in his wheelchair, covered in blankets, a hat on his head to cover up his missing hair. Tony glances down at his daughter and finds that she doesn’t falter at the sight of Peter’s scarred face. Instead, she smiles as they approach each other. 

 

“You’re the boy from the picture,” Morgan says. “The one in our kitchen that used to make Daddy sad.”

Peter looks up at Tony, who avoids eye contact. “Don’t you have something you wanted to give Pete,” he says. 

Morgan nods and pulls her drawing from behind her back, handing it to Peter.

“What are your dad and I doing,” Peter asks, and his voice sounds like he’s holding back tears. 

“Giving each other bunny ears,” Morgan replies. “Like in the picture.”

 

Peter smiles at the picture, and Morgan smiles at him. May looks at them and mouths a “thank you.”

 

-

 

Tony knows that Peter is still recovering. He knows that the boy is still hardly able to stand on his own. He knows that the hand he has left will shake with fatigue after being awake only a couple of hours. He knows it’s not going to be easy. 

 

He just never expected it to be this  _ hard _ . 

 

Peter needs help with everything. He can’t get dressed on his own, he can’t bathe on his own, he can’t cut his own food, he even has trouble getting to the bathroom because not only did he just _lose a limb_ , but the rest of his body is just so incredibly _weak_ that it makes everything hard. 

 

One day, Peter tries to bathe on his own, finessing FRIDAY into letting him without snitching. He manages to fill the tub up, but when he tries to take his clothes off he falls straight into the water. FRIDAY alerts Tony, who is there in less than a minute to find Peter sitting in the tub, fully dressed, covered head to toe in water, a large knot already forming on his forehead as he cries. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay, are you alright?” Tony kneels down next to the tub. 

 

Peter nods as he rubs his face and Tony starts draining the tub. He grabs a towel and drapes it around Peter’s frail frame and the boy leans on his chest, grabbing his shirt with a wet hand. Tony collects him into an embrace. 

 

“I hate it,” Peter sobs. “I’m done. I hate this.”

 

“You’ll get stronger,” Tony says. 

 

“But-But-“

 

Peter cuts himself off with a wail, but Tony knows what he means. ‘ _But I’ll never get my arm back. But things will never be the same._ ’ As the boy continues to cry loudly, Tony just continues to hold him tight, rocking back and forth a little bit until he finally stops. 

 

This isn’t the only time something like this happens. The meltdowns are few and far between over the next several weeks, but they still happen. Gradually, the boy gets stronger and is able to do more on his own. He can feed himself and dress himself and bathe himself. Things seem to be looking up. 

 

Until they crash down again. 

 

Peter’s first experience with phantom limb pain is terrifying for everyone. His bedroom is located between Tony’s and May’s so once the blood curdling shrieks begin, they both reach his bedroom at the same time while Pepper sees if Morgan is awake. First, Tony thinks he’s having a nightmare, so he attempts to shake him awake.

 

“It hurts,” Peter gasps, to Tony’s horror. 

 

“What hurts,” Tony asks. 

 

“My  _arm_ ,” Peter wails. 

 

Tony looks at where he’s using his right hand to grasp the left sleeve of his t-shirt, then looks up to May, who is white as a sheet. It’s when Peter brings his hand to fist the fabric of Tony’s shirt that the man decides to scoop him up and make a mad dash to the Medbay, where FRIDAY has already summoned Bruce. 

 

“Did you guys mess up?” Tony demands as he places Peter down on a bed. “You had to have messed up during his surgery, why is he in so much pain?”

 

Bruce answers as he tries to gather vitals. “It’s called phantom limb pain, Tony, it happens to a lot of amputees.” He can hardly hear the doctor over Peter’s screaming. “I’ll get him something to help with the pain.”

 

When Bruce leaves the room, all Tony has to focus on is Peter, whose back is arched from the pain and whose hand is gripping the metal bar of the bed, crushing it with a crunch. It feels like a million years before Bruce comes back and starts an IV, feeding the pain medication through it. Finally, Peter’s shrieks die down. 

“Pete?” May says softly, combing her fingers through his hair. “Do you feel better?”

The boy nods jerkily. “Yeah,” he breathes, bottom lip starting to wobble. “It felt just like...”

 

Peter doesn’t need to finish. Tony and May share a knowing look as Peter drifts off to sleep. 

 

As soon as Tony is sure that Peter is asleep, he goes down to his lab to continue the researching he’d done when Peter was in the hospital. He plans to make a prosthetic arm out of beta titanium 3 gold alloy, which is four times harder and much more compatible than normal titanium, which is typically used for artificial joints. It’s also lighter in weight, which will enable Peter to do whatever he wants without hindrance. Helen already placed sensors under the skin of Peter’s stump, so he just needs to take a few measurements before he actually starts building. 

“Hey, Pete,” Tony calls across the penthouse one day. “Can you come over here for a minute?”

Peter emerges from his bedroom. “What do you need?”

“Just want to take some measurements of your arm.”

The doors to the lab open and the two step out. “What do you mean ‘measurements?’”

“For your new arm, of course.” Did this kid seriously think that Tony wasn’t going to build him a new one? “Now hold still.”

As the man measures the stump, he can’t help but notice the uncomfortable look on the boy’s face. 

“What’s on your mind,” Tony asks, causing Peter to start a little. 

“Oh- uh... Nothing.”

Tony smiles. “Want to try that again?”

Peter sighs. “I guess I kind of... miss my old arm? I don’t know. It’s dumb. I just feel weird replacing it. It’s not like the pain is going to stop.”

Tony hums in thought. “Maybe it could.”

That’s all it takes for Tony to work on something different. 

 

In addition to the efficient metal, Tony also did some research on how to help Peter with his pain. He decided to implant a transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulator into the arm- a device that would send small electric pulses through Peter’s nerves to help with the pain. 

 

After successfully creating and calibrating the arm, Tony calls Peter’s name across the penthouse once more. He calls May down as well, so she can watch. The boy hesitantly shuffles into the lab that afternoon, looking at the new arm with both excitement and anxiety in his features. 

“The process of attaching it might feel weird,” Tony says. “When you had surgery I had Helen put sensors under your skin to connect with the ones on the arm. It shouldn’t hurt though, let me know if it does.”

As Tony handles the stump of his arm, Peter grimaces. He slides a protective sleeve over it before gently attaching the prosthetic arm. As the arm slides into place, Tony can see the boy tense up for a moment. 

“All set,” Tony says. “Can you move your fingers?”

 

Peter glances at Tony with an expression of apprehension, then looks down at his new hand. 

 

The sound of the fist clenching is music to Tony’s ears. He gasps a little bit, as does Peter, and the three of them look around at each other, May holding her hands by her chest with a wide smile. 

“Can you lift it up,” Tony breathes next.

The boy moves his arm in slow, jerking movements until he becomes more confident and his movements become more fluid. 

 

“There’s one more part to it,” Tony says, trying to hide his excitement and keep his cool. “There’s a button on the shoulder that only responds to your fingerprint, mine, and May’s. When it’s pressed, it sends tiny electric pulses into your arm to help you when you have pain.”

Peter looks at his shoulder and Tony sees his eyes land on the button. After a moment’s hesitation, the boy brings a finger up to press it. 

 

Once he does so, his entire posture changes. He stands up straighter and seems more relaxed. Tony is about to ask if it worked when Peter releases a sob, moving forward and collecting Tony into a tight, two-armed embrace. Tony doesn’t move for a second, but then he returns the hug. May joins in and before long all three of them are sniffing and hugging and crying. 

In that moment Tony knew that they were going to make it. That things would be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do plan on adding onto this at some point, which is why i left a few loose ends in here. i can’t tell you when the next part will go up, but be expecting it at some point in the future.  
> also, go check out my story “the story of the guy who decided not to die”! i’m really proud of that one and have a lot of plans for it :))

**Author's Note:**

> please give me feedback and let me know if you’d like to see me write more for this fandom! i have a few things in the works but idk if i’ll post any of it.


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